Boxed Macaroni
by On-A-Rainy-Day
Summary: Very cute story about Suze. Please R&R!


A/n--- This is an incredibly cheesy story, so I apologize. I am using it to help get over my writers block so I can start on a bigger story. Please R/r! bah. ~Write-on3108~  
  
I came home from school and set my backpack down on the sofa. It had been one of the most boring days of my life. It had started with a student government meeting discussing the upcoming pep rally and ended with the most boring religions class I had ever had the privilege of sitting through.  
  
I went into the kitchen to find Andy already preparing dinner. I walked in and grabbed an apple from the bowl on the countertop and washed it off in the sink.  
  
"So how was your day Suze?" Andy asked.  
  
"Totally and completely boring," I replied trying to ignore the fact that he was pounding on chicken with one of those sledge hammer type things. I mean, how gross can you get?  
  
"Oh, that's too bad. Listen your mom had to go out of town tonight to cover some story. She won't be back until tomorrow morning. And since Brad has a wrestling match and Jake has a class tonight, it's just going to be you, David and me. I hope that's all right?" he said, still pounding on that chicken.  
  
"Um, sure that's fine. You don't need to make a big dinner tonight. I mean, if there's only three of us." Ok, I admit it: I was just trying to get him to stop pounding on that chicken.  
  
Well, it worked. He stopped hitting the chicken, but only to look up at me in this shocked way.  
  
"But I like cooking for you guys! Plus it'll give us a chance to talk. We don't rally get to talk much, Suze. I feel like I hardly know you!" he said.  
  
I have to say, I really felt bad for the guy right then. I mean, he just looked so sad.  
  
"Well, at least let me help then. Is there anything I can make? Macaroni or something?"  
  
He gave me such a weird look that I said "I'm not the world's greatest cook, but even I can make some pasta!"  
  
"Ok, then. There's a few boxes of it in that cabinet." He said, going back to hitting that chicken.  
  
I got out a box and put some water on to boil. I watched Andy. He really did seem happy, standing there, pounding away. After a while, Brad ran down the stairs and yelled that he was on his way to the match. I don't think Andy and I talked while we were cooking. I honestly don't remember what about, if we did. We just stood there, with him adding spices to things and checking on the chicken every once in a while (he had stopped pounding on it a while ago) and me stirring the macaroni occasionally.  
  
At dinner, Doc announced that the macaroni was the best he'd ever had. I just kind of smiled. I mean, it was out of a box!  
  
All of a sudden, Andy looked across the table at me and said, "Thanks for helping me tonight. Really."  
  
I was kind of surprised at this. They were both making such a big deal out of me following the directions on the side of a box.  
  
"No problem, Dad." And then I realized what I had said. "I mean, uh, Andy." And then I just got up and started clearing the dishes. I walked in the kitchen to start washing them, but Andy followed me.  
  
"Suze? You know, you can call me dad if you want. I mean, you don't have to, but its ok if that's what you want to do." And then he left.  
  
But I knew I couldn't call him that. I already HAD a Dad. Of course, he was dead, and no one but me had talked to him in years, but he was still my dad.  
  
And then, as if he knew what I was thinking, my dad---the dead one --- showed up at my side.  
  
"If you're trying to spy on mom again, it won't work. She's not here." I said, not looking up from the dishes.  
  
"Suze. I came to say good bye. I'm leaving now."  
  
Ok. That got my attention. "What do you mean you're leaving? You're already dead, remember?" I asked.  
  
"You know what I mean. I'm moving on. All I wanted was for you to have a real family. A father. I can see you have that now, so I don't need to stick around anymore. Good bye Suze." he pulled me into a tight hug. When he pulled back, he started to fade, and I knew that this time he really wouldn't be back. And I started to cry.  
  
"I love you dad." I whispered.  
  
"I love you too, Suze." he said. And then he was gone. I turned back to my dishes. The tears continued to flow down my face. But I hardly noticed.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Please R & R and tell me what you think!  
  
bah. 


End file.
